Occupy Wall Street
Hello, everybody. This is the first blog of December, and I thought I might try something different this time around. I’ve hit rock bottom, so get the picks and shovels. In the first blog entry I published, I promised not to bore you with politics, and I still intend on keeping that promise. However, a number of people have asked me what I thought about the Occupy Wall Street movement, and like any other loudmouth jerk, I have opinions that I want, nay, need to share. Having said that, I know at least one or two people reading this are probably fruitcakes who won’t be placated until I say something really nice about them, but I am not in the business of being nice to people, especially not whiney little dirtballs. So please, take it easy and read at the peril of your fragile sensibilities. Anyway, lets give this a shot and see what happens. Try to understand that I am approaching this subject as apolitically as I can – the protesters are subject to lambasting, just like anybody else. Why I am even writing this disclaimer? You readers have yet to be offended by much more sensitive subjects. I guess if I can make fun of crippled or retarded folks without an uproar (that last sentence is almost certainly going to cause one, now), some hippies should not be a big deal. I don’t understand the inordinate amount of coverage they are getting from the media. Far be it from me to defend the Tea Party lunatics, but you know you’re going wrong when the TP looks more moderate and civilized than your protest does…and I think the Tea Party sucks, mostly because I like gay people more than assault weapons. Those goddamn freaks might as well be confederates.
Everybody hates banks, so, in a way, I understand the occupy movement. I am not Chauncey Uppercrust, and I don’t wipe my ass with Burberry scarves and snort Beluga caviar. I don’t watch pro wrestling and throw aerosol cans into bonfires for fun, either. I am just a regular dude that likes work boots and hoodies. I enjoy cans of beer and burritos, and I have no sympathy for the people who gouge the consumer or, in some cases, commit white-collar crime. I am a pretty sympathetic guy. I have a big fat heart. It is quite beautiful, really. It is just bursting with love and arterial plaque.
Did you know that one time a bank charged me $1.50 for using a different bank’s ATM? Heads should roll for such a dastardly sleight of hand. I could have bought a Peppermint Schnapps nip with that kind of loot. However, that is just about all I have in common with the street urchins now clogging Dewey Square. I guess I just don’t understand why they have to live in the financial districts of their respective cities. They realize nobody is working after the closing bell, right? They don’t have sleep on the sidewalk to harass the investors and bankers. They could do that 9-5, or more specifically 9:30-4:00. Although, without their shantytown, where would the charm be? The sidewalk would not smell like piss, there would not be thousands of pounds of garbage in a public park, and we would never see rats the size of German Shepherds.
Anyway, I never understood protesting, because nobody cares about it. Powerful people don’t care about what a bunch of little people think, especially not a bunch of lazy, dirty goldbricks who belong at a Jam band festival. To the overlords, little people are peons. The movement does not seem to have any one cohesive message to it either. Do we tear down capitalism in favor of a new order? Is this about wars? Environmentalism? I am not sure what the message is, because there is no hierarchy or leadership. I just see a lot of lily-livered weasels that now live on the street, fuck in tents on the sidewalk and use the McDonalds bathroom to take baths. Frankly, I’d like to grab each and every last one of them by the nose and kick them in the ass all the way back to the west coast, where they belong. I don’t get these freaks, and I never will, because I don’t have a neck long enough to get my head that far up my own ass. The only thing I know for sure is that if you want to kick around the hacky sack, wear a V for Vendetta mask, score some schwag weed and maybe date rape a hippie chick, this is the place for you, baby. These guys need to go occupy the showers…at Treblinka.
Winter is now upon us, though, and for those living outside, a New England Winter is deadlier than Chinese NASCAR. Winter around here is pretty unforgiving – just ask any dead homeless person. When the sun is set and darkness falls, it gets mighty chilly down in the gutter. The situation is getting dire, though. They are living on a frozen lake of human waste, probably running out of drugs and granola bars, everybody has frostbite, lice and gonorrhea, and the police are using chemical mace like farmers use pesticides. I think these peepshow squeegees are living on borrowed time.
I don’t know what the end game is here, folks, I just wish we could raise Judge Smails from the grave to scold these deadbeats. It seems like our political system is starting to seize up, and I am worried about our future. Watching congress try to solve problems is like watching the fight between Keith David and Rowdy Roddy Piper in They Live. Anyway, I am off to the store to buy Rosetta Stone Chinese so I can find a job. See you guys later.